Heartless

by Diana Palmer

  Feverish minutes later, she looked up into his relaxed, tender features, struggling to get her breath.

  “I thought I might never see you again,” she whispered.

  “Yes. So did I.” He bent and kissed her eyelids shut, his body still intimately joined to hers. He moved lazily, intensifying the little shocks of pleasure. “I’m sorry I was so cold to you.”

  “You just made up for every single complaint I ever had,” she assured him. Her soft eyes searched his. “You know, we’ve never really talked about taking precautions.”

  He grinned. “We can talk about it in a few months.”

  She smiled back. “We can forget about it altogether as far as I’m concerned.”

  He traced her eyebrows with a long forefinger. “What about your job?”

  “I can be pregnant and still work,” she said easily.

  He smiled. “Okay.”

  She reached up and kissed him softly. “We should probably have a nice shower. I imagine your mother will be back with food soon.”

  “My mother.” He drew in a long breath. “I felt so guilty. And so stupid for not even guessing. I knew the woman I called my real mother wasn’t anybody’s idea of the ideal parent. She never seemed to have a bond with me, and I never understood why I didn’t feel anything much when she died.” He winced. “My poor mother. My father was such a damned snob he wouldn’t even marry her when his wife died. He thought she was beneath him socially.”

  “You’ll make up for all that,” she assured him. “And we’ll give her grandchildren to spoil.”

  He pursed his lips and looked down their bodies to where they were joined. “Pretty soon, if we keep doing this.”

  “I have no plans to stop,” she said softly, her eyes searching his. “My poor mother. In her whole life, she never knew what love could be. I believed her, you know. It ruined my life. Well, up until a few months ago,” she conceded with a shy smile.

  “I wish you’d told me everything a lot sooner,” he said. “But better late than never.”

  “I love you so much,” she whispered huskily. “More than my own life.”

  He drew in a long breath and touched her face tenderly. “Those words come hard to me,” he confessed. “I never heard them from my father or from the woman I thought was my mother. They were two of the coldest people on earth. My father had women, but he used them. He had no respect for them.”

  “My mother at least did love me,” she said. “And she said so, all the time. I’ll say it to our children all the time, too,” she added doggedly. “They’ll always know they’re loved.”

  “As I love you,” he said in a deep, heavy tone, bringing her shocked eyes up to his. “With all that I am. I loved you when you were in your teens and went away to make sure I never acted on it. You were so young. Later, when I knew how deeply I loved you, I still held back, hoping you’d see me with different eyes. The night it rained and your car went into the ditch, I’d waited so long that I became desperate. I lost control and almost ruined everything,” he groaned. “You looked so shocked…”

  She put her fingers against his lips. “Shocked, but overwhelmed with joy,” she whispered. “It was sex I was afraid of, not you, and I couldn’t find the nerve to tell you. I’ve loved you for so long,” she said, choking. “Most of my life! I loved you, but I was afraid I’d never be able to give you a woman’s love, a physical love. I was going to tell you everything that next morning. But you were gone.” Her eyes shadowed. “And then there was Kittie.”

  He buried his face in her throat. “My fault. All my fault. Wounded pride made me into a man I never was. I’m so sorry, honey. Sorry for everything.”

  “Not for what we just did, I hope,” she whispered into his ear, moving restlessly under him until she felt his body clench and then start to swell. “Because I want to do it again.” She lifted her hips and curled them into his, laughing breathlessly when he gasped, and then groaned, and then started to move helplessly on her body. “Yes, that’s it,” she whimpered, holding on tight. “Love me. Love me. Love me!”

  “I…do,” he managed to say. And then he was too busy to get another word out.

  THEY WALKED HAND IN HAND into the dining room where an amused Mrs. Harcourt was putting food that she’d already reheated once. She didn’t say a word. They were so much in love, so much a part of each other already that her heart lifted with joy.

  She’d put a Christmas centerpiece on the table and she was using the holiday plates, too. “It’s almost Christmas,” she reminded them.

  Jason laughed. “Almost time for presents!” he said, looking at Gracie teasingly. “I got you something lovely.”

  “I got you something, too,” she replied, her eyes teasing.

  “Tell me what it is,” he said. “Come on. Tell me.”

  “And ruin the surprise?” she laughed. “Not likely!”

  He bent and kissed the tip of her nose. “Okay. I like surprises.” He glanced at his mother and smiled warmly. “Good thing, considering how many I’m getting lately!”

  They all laughed.

  GLORY AND RODRIGO CAME over for supper, much later, and listened to Gracie explain how she’d ransomed Jason from the General. They were astonished that it had all taken place without their knowledge.

  “Listen,” Glory said, “you two have got to stop letting yourselves be snatched by kidnappers,” she said firmly. “Jason, you need a bodyguard. I’m not kidding,” she added when he laughed. “These are dangerous times. John is a great driver, but he can’t handle young toughs. I want you to think about it.”

  “I’ve got Grange,” Jason reminded her. “He’s done a lot of things besides being an officer in the military.”

  “Then let him go places with you,” Glory insisted. “I mean it. You and Gracie take too many chances.”

  Jason glanced at his wife and smiled complacently. “I guess it’s safe enough to let him tag along, since we’re married.”

  “I’m very fond of him, jealous heart,” she teased, leaning close to kiss him. “But it was never more than fondness. Okay?”

  He grinned. “Okay.”

  Mrs. Harcourt stood behind Jason at the table and quietly told them the truth about who Jason’s real mother was. There was a sudden silence. But then, Glory got up and hugged her while she cried. It was, Glory whispered in her ear, one of the nicest surprises she’d ever had, because she knew how much Mrs. Harcourt loved Jason. That feeling was very obviously mutual from Jason’s dark-eyed smile. She couldn’t imagine that Jason would ever be ashamed of such a good, kind, loving woman. She said so. And everyone else at the table agreed with her.

  THE NEXT DAY, THE STORY of Jason’s parentage hit the tabloids. Reporters gathered to ask questions, and Jason produced his radiant mother and hugged her for the benefit of the photographers. It was really a Cinderella story, someone remarked, but Jason reminded them that his mother was a businesswoman in her own right, and that her crafting abilities were formidable. He displayed one of her afghans, which was also photographed. For once, the light of the media had a sweet taste. The furor died down with the advent of a murder right there in Jacobsville, which was whispered to have ties to another murder seven years ago in San Antonio, which involved Kilraven and might have ties to still another in Oklahoma.

  Days later, another tabloid carried a story about a model who had attempted to blackmail a millionaire with secrets about his past. No names were mentioned, but the story assured readers that the millionaire was already pursuing criminal charges against the woman, which would be announced soon.

  One of Jason’s friends in San Antonio called him after he read the story. He asked Jason if he knew that his ex-fiancée Kittie Sartain had given up her contracts in the United States and was moving to London to pursue her career. Her friends were mystified as to her reasons, but Jason’s friend said he had a sneaking hunch that he could answer that question. Jason replied drily that he did, too.

  CHRISTMAS WEEK WAS FULL of joy at t
he ranch house. The college was closed until January, when spring semester would start, and public schools were also on holiday, so Gracie had time to rack up the decorations all over the ranch. The housekeeper in San Antonio was doing the same there because Gracie and Jason always threw a bonzer New Year’s Eve party there. This year would be no different.

  But it was at the ranch that they spent the holidays. They opened presents on Christmas Eve, a family tradition for Mrs. Harcourt, who was beaming and full of joy as she sat on the sofa beside Glory and Rodrigo while Gracie, Jason, John and Dilly handed out packages.

  Gracie gave her present to Jason with her own hands. He did likewise.

  “I bought this with my own money that I earned,” she said gently. “So it’s not extravagant. But it’s something I think you’ll like.”

  He bent and kissed her. “I’d like a napkin if you gave it to me, honey,” he said softly. “It really is the thought, you know, not the expense.”

  She kissed him back. “Open it.”

  He did. Inside was a knife, an expensive one with a bone handle and with the Texas Ranger logo on it. Jason had always been fascinated with the law enforcement organization, and he always carried a pocketknife. He turned it over in his hands, smiling. “I’ll use this all the time. Thanks.” He kissed her. “Now, open yours.”

  She did. It was a gold link necklace with a pale green stone pendant hanging from it. It was elegant and exquisite.

  She looked up at Jason, frowning. “It’s like peridot, but it doesn’t really look…”

  “Moldavite,” he interrupted, smiling at her surprise. “It’s moldavite, Gracie. Something from the stars, to add to your meteorite collection. But it’s wearable.”

  “Moldavite!” She turned the stone over in her hands, holding it up to the light. It was a rare stone, meteoric in origin, and it cost a small fortune. Not that Jason couldn’t afford it, but he’d found something that he knew would please her, and gone to a lot of trouble at that. She hugged him close. “Thank you! It’s the first piece of moldavite I’ve ever owned!”

  “What’s moldavite?” Mrs. Harcourt asked, peering over her shoulder.

  “It comes from meteors,” Gracie enthused.

  “I’d rather have mine,” the older woman teased, holding up a beautiful soft pink housecoat with matching slippers that Jason had bought her. “It feels like a cloud.”

  Jason bent and kissed her cheek. “It looks motherly,” he teased back.

  Mrs. Harcourt hugged him. “I hope you like yours. It doesn’t look motherly, but a mother who loves you made it,” she teased.

  “I love it,” he chuckled. She’d knitted him a cover for his bed in the earth colors he liked. She’d done Gracie one, too, and been enthusiastically hugged for it. They both knew how much labor and love Mrs. Harcourt put into her knitting. Glory and Rodrigo also had afghans, and so did old John, who almost cried when Jason and Gracie gave him a color television for his room. Dilly got one, too, and hugged everybody.

  “This has been a wonderful Christmas,” Glory said with a sigh when she and Gracie were briefly alone. “Can you believe how far we’ve both come from our early lives?”

  “I’d never have thought we’d end up like this,” Gracie agreed. Her eyes went to Jason. They were radiant. “Especially me.”

  “I saw the way he looked at you years ago,” her stepsister said gently. “I wanted to tell you, but I wasn’t sure I should. Now I’m glad I waited.”

  “Me, too.” She embraced Glory. “We have a family. A very big and wonderful one.”

  “Yes.” Glory hugged her back and sighed. “I wish Rodrigo and I could have a baby. I’ve never really gotten over losing the first one.”

  Gracie looked her in the eye. “Miracles happen all the time, Glory. Look at how I got Jason back, how he got me back from the kidnappers. What are the odds?”

  “Everyday miracles,” Glory mused.

  “Yes. Everyday miracles. Including,” she whispered, “the one I’m almost positive I’m carrying.” Her hand went to her flat belly.

  Glory caught her breath. Jason, glancing their way, caught his, too, when he saw the look on Gracie’s face and where her hand was resting. He dropped the package he’d started to open and went to her, pulling her into his arms.

  “Tell me,” he said with a hungry look in his eyes.

  “I’m not sure,” she said softly. “It’s too early to be positive. But I think…”

  He wrapped her up tight and rocked her, in the sudden silence of the room.

  “Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas to you, my sweetheart,” he whispered into her ear.

  “Is this a personal secret, or do the rest of us get to hear it, too?” Grange asked from behind them with a grin.

  They looked up. Gracie’s eyes were wet with tears. Jason was beaming.

  “We might be pregnant,” Gracie confessed shyly.

  There was pandemonium in the living room. Mrs. Harcourt wept and hugged them, and so did old John, to the surprise of everyone present. For a long time, there was palpable joy and expectation around the huge, glittering Christmas tree.

  MUCH, MUCH LATER, when the guests had gone home and Mrs. Harcourt had lugged her gifts down to her room, Jason sat in his big armchair in front of the glowing gas logs with Gracie curled up in his arms next to the Christmas tree.

  He handed her a small box. “I saved this one for last,” he said, smiling indulgently as she pulled off the wrapping, opened the box and stared at its contents until tears began rolling down her cheeks. It was the items she’d pawned, her mother’s jewelry. She looked up at him through a mist.

  “Thank you,” she said huskily.

  He kissed her tenderly. “Don’t be mad. You can still be independent. But these are heirlooms that we’ll hand down to our children, and they to their children. They belong in the family. I wanted to make sure they didn’t accidentally wind up in someone else’s hands.”

  She sighed and nestled closer. “I was worried about that, too. I’m not mad. It was a sweet thing to do.”

  He grinned. “I’m very sweet,” he informed her. “I have nice qualities. My mother said so.”

  “Very nice qualities.”

  “Can you die of happiness?” he murmured, kissing her hair.

  “I guess we’ll find out together.”

  His arms contracted. “When will we know for sure about the baby?”

  She brushed her lips against his throat, drowsy from the long day and the delight she was feeling. “In a few weeks, I think. The home pregnancy test I used was encouraging. My monthly is days late and I’m very regular.”

  He sighed. “We’ll make beautiful babies,” he murmured. “I hope some of them are blond.”

  “I hope some of them have black eyes, like you and your mother.”

  He chuckled. “We’ll see what we get. I just want whatever it is to be healthy.”

  “Me, too.”

  She nuzzled her face into his throat and closed her eyes. “Jason?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Merry Christmas. I hope you like your present.”

  He lifted his head and looked down at her soft face. He smiled tenderly. “Merry Christmas, honey. I do like it. But the one I like best is the gift of love.”

  She hugged him. “The gift we give each other,” she agreed. She peered up at him wickedly. “I’ve just thought of something.”

  “What?”

  “You’re the most expensive Christmas present I ever got!”

  He didn’t get it for a minute. Then he realized that she meant the ransom she’d paid for him, and he burst out laughing. “Was I worth it?” he teased.

  She reached up and kissed him softly. “Worth every penny. Every tear. Every lonely minute.”

  “Life is sweet, my precious,” he whispered, searching her loving eyes.

  She nuzzled his face with hers. “Yes. Sweeter than honey.”

  He cuddled her back into his arms and sighed, closing hi
s eyes as the flames in the gas logs danced like sugar-plums. Gracie watched them across his broad chest, feeling the happiness like a flame inside her heart. Somewhere she heard Christmas carols being sung and a dog barking in the distance. Closer, she heard the strong, regular beat of Jason’s heart under her ear. Christmas wasn’t only in her heart. It was in her arms.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5478-1

  HEARTLESS

  Copyright © 2009 by Diana Palmer

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